What Makes A Hero?
by 2Old4This2
Summary: Three months ABY. Leia and Han set out on a mission to rescue a renowned research scientist from the late planet Alderaan who is hiding from the Empire. It turns out that the scientist is an old friend of Leia's; a special old friend.
1. Chapter 1

_As always, a huge thank you to my betas jublke and StatsGrandma57 for your wonderful work; I couldn't do it without you. And another special thank you to StatsGrandma57 for making me finish the thing. There were days..._

**What Makes a Hero?**

_A __**Star**__**Wars**__ Fan Fiction_

"_They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally they became heroes."_

_Leia Organa of Alderaan, Princess & Senator_

_Chapter One_

_**3 months ABY**_

"Okay! We need a power converter _and_ a sensor pulse generator. Add them to the list." Han Solo rose halfway out of the _Millennium Falcon's _aft service pit. "I have no idea how we're going to afford all this," he said. "I don't suppose our new friends have any spare parts just lying around," he added sourly.

Chewbacca woofed out a tart reply, his furry eyebrows wriggling.

"Yeah, I know they haven't got much money to spare, but neither do we." Han perched himself on the edge of the pit and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. "We gotta find a way to raise some capital." He tilted his head back to look at the Wookiee. "We need paying cargo."

Han shrugged at Chewie's warbled comment. "I know it doesn't seem right to take their money, but we can't afford to keep going like this." He pushed himself to his feet. "We're gonna have to talk to Dodonna and his crew. If we can't earn enough to keep the ship going, we're going to have to leave."

Chewie bellowed indignantly.

"So, you got any better ideas?"

A shrug was the Wookiee's only reply.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Gimme the list." He dropped the greasy rag he'd been using to wipe his hands on the holotable and headed toward the ramp.

"Han!" Luke Skywalker's voice sounded from outside the ship.

"Hey, kid. What's up?" Han asked as he stepped out into the steamy heat of Yavin 4.

"I just came from the Command Center; they need you!"

Even dressed in his new Alliance uniform, Luke hadn't broken a sweat. Han wondered if he'd ever been that young and eager. If he had been, it was so long ago he couldn't remember it anymore. Or maybe he didn't want to.

"Do you know what they want?" he asked the younger man.

"Nope." Luke turned and started toward the old temple. "All I know is that Leia said I should come and get you right away."

"Whatever her Worshipfulness wants, I hope it pays well," Han said, pocketing his list as he and Chewbacca hurried down the path after Luke.

"Can't you ever do anything without asking for money?" Luke asked, his face falling into the same disapproving lines as Princess Leia Organa's did when she was dealing with the smuggler. Han wondered if they practiced the look together.

"It's a freighter, kid. That's how we earn our living: hauling freight," Han replied dryly. They entered the shadowed coolness of the Massassi temple turned rebel base, skirting around the few X-wings and Y-wings that had survived the destruction of the Death Star, plus the newer ships the Alliance had brought in to help replace the ones that had been lost during the battle.

Luke jogged up a set of steep stone steps that led to the Alliance Command Center, Han and Chewbacca trailing along behind him. The Wookiee whined a little at the pace. Han shot one sympathetic look over his shoulder at his friend as he rolled down the sleeves on his sweat-stained shirt.

"Listen, kid," he continued, "we can't keep the _Falcon_ spaceworthy without some serious repairs, and we can't make the repairs without new parts, and we can't get the parts without some credits. So, we need a paying job," Han completed his argument as they stepped into the Center.

"Don't worry, Captain. I'm sure the Alliance can scrape together a few spare credits to pay you for your time." The princess's white skirt swirled around her ankles as she turned away from the communications console, where she'd been deep in conversation with Commander Willard.

Nope, Han realized, he was mistaken. The kid's disapproving look couldn't hold a glow rod to her Worshipfulness' expression of undisguised contempt.

"And good afternoon to you, your Highness," he said with a sneer. He found himself vaguely curious as to why she insisted on wearing her white princess dresses while she was busy fomenting rebellion. Maybe it made her feel more in charge? Han didn't see how that could be possible.

"Pardon me for wanting to keep my ship in the air," he continued. "You remember my ship, don't you, it's the one you keep wanting to use." Han smiled insolently. "Or is it that you can't find anyone else with piloting skills as good as mine?"

Luke rolled his eyes in disgust; Leia ignored the barb—and the boast. Han wondered, not for the first time, how such a tiny woman could manage to look down her nose at him, even when she was looking up.

"This is something I'm sure even your limited skills can handle," Leia taunted. "There is an individual, a research scientist, who needs to be retrieved from the Polith System."

"That's the inner rim," Han said, his mocking tone gone. "There's a lot of Imperial activity out there." His forehead furrowed. "Who is this individual and why does he need retrieving?"

"His name's Astin Kieriearn. He was doing research with bacta strains when the Empire moved in on Thyferra. He made it to a neutral moon in the system ahead of the stormtroopers, but he's not sure how long he'll be safe. They're searching for him."

"Why do the Imps want him so bad?"

"He's working on a new, easier to produce form of bacta, and the Empire wants to control the bacta supply," Willard supplied.

"If they control the bacta, they can control who gets it and who doesn't, right?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, it's good old supply and demand," Han said. He looked at the princess, his eyes narrowing. She was more worked up than usual; there was something else going on. "And what else do we need to know about this guy?" he asked her.

"He's from Alderaan." 

**"Where's the kid?" Han asked, peering over the princess's shoulder as she strode up the **_**Falcon's**_** boarding ramp.**

"Luke is working with Red squadron on fortifying some of the orbiting defense satellites." Leia's eyebrows arched upwards. "Some of us are trying to defeat the Empire, not just make a profit."

"And I'm so happy for you all," Han replied to the Princess's back as she headed into the ship. He was sorry Luke wasn't coming with them. Not only was he a good fighter, but with Luke along Han would have someone to talk to when her Worshipfulness got into one of her moods—like she always did.

Leia dropped a small duffel bag on the floor next to the holotable in the _Falcon's_ main lounge. She'd traded her customary white garments for a pair of tan slacks and a dark gray jacket. Only her shirt was white. Han found his eyes traveling from where the shirt was gathered at the Princess's trim waist up to its tighter fit across her chest. His mouth went a little dry. This new look made for a much nicer view than the princess dress. He wet his lips and turned his attention to a series of switches at the engineering station.

"Did you get your power converter and your pulse generator?" she asked him. Unexpectedly, Han could find no hint of sarcasm in the princess's inquiry.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks for getting them so fast."

"Well, we certainly wouldn't want to inconvenience you, seeing as there's such a demand for your services," she snipped.

And there it was again, Han thought, that _kriffing_ attitude. There were times he thought he might just kill her. "Now listen here, Chewie and I were making a good living before we got involved with Luke and the old man," he began.

"Sure you were."

At that moment, Chewie appeared in the cockpit access corridor. It was time to lift off. Thank the gods!

"We're ready to go, your Worship," Han snarled. "Strap yourself in and enjoy your trip." 

"**Okay, Chewie, ready for the sublights on my mark…now!" **Han shoved the drive levers forward and the Doppler-mottled light of hyperspace receded to the bright pinpoints of stars.

"This isn't the Polith System. Why did you bring us out of lightspeed way out here?" Princess Leia stood braced between Han and Chewbacca, a hand on the back of each of their seats. Her eyes were focused on a series of bright planetary dots circling the brighter light of a star out the starboard side of the canopy.

"This is the inner rim, your Worship." Han risked a quick glance over his shoulder at the irate princess before turning back to the front viewscreen. "Like I said before, there's always a lot of Imperial activity out here; and there might be more since you said they're looking for your boy. I figured popping out of hyperspace in the middle of an Imp search party wasn't any good for his health. Or ours," he added. "Unless you want us to lead them right to him." He turned his head to look at her again. "I figured slow and careful was our best bet."

Mollified but not chastised, Leia nodded her head in agreement. "That's a good idea," she conceded.

"That's what you keep me around for, your Highnessness," he observed smugly, "my brilliant, clear-headed thinking."

"Well, it's certainly not because of your humble, self-deprecating manner," came the quick retort.

A pleased, lop-sided grin lit the smuggler's features. He placed a hand in the middle of his chest. "Who, me?" he asked.

Leia merely shook her head.

A bark from Chewie ended the conversation. Han turned his attention forward.

"No, I don't see anything either, Chewie. Anything show up on the long range sensors?"

The Wookiee grunted in the negative.

"Good. That's good." Han checked the nav display. "I think if we slingshot around this planet here," he indicated a blip on the display, "we should be able to come in the back door and not attract any unnecessary attention to us or to the moon."

Chewie studied the display, then nodded his agreement.

"That's going to take some time," Leia observed in frustration.

"Yeah." Han agreed, flipping back to the sensor display, "but we'll get there alive."

Silence filled the cockpit. To Han, that seemed more disapproving than Leia's sniping. Finally, just to overcome the unspoken criticism, he tried conversation.

"So, do you know this guy? What's his name—Astin?"

"Kieriearn. Astin Kieriearn. Yes. Everyone on Alderaan knew him. Or knew of him." Han noted that the princess only stumbled a little when she mentioned her former homeworld. She was one tough woman, he thought, he'd give her that.

"He was, is, an amazing research biologist. He discovered treatments for several different chronic conditions. He made so many people's lives on Alderaan so much better." Leia paused now and swallowed, obviously remembering that all those people no longer existed. Chewbacca moaned sympathetically.

"And he did all this with bacta?" Han asked, hoping to move things forward.

"No, the bacta research is a new project. That's why he was on Thyferra."

"You know him," Han observed. "A friend of your family?"

"Yes." Leia's tight control broke; she actually smiled. "It will be so good to see him again!"

Han wondered how good it actually would be. He'd seen other survivors of Alderaan's destruction. They were, understandably, a solemn bunch. There was Celchu, an X-wing pilot, and that new command-type—Rieekan. Both of them seemed to be good men, and good at their jobs, but Han didn't think he'd ever seen either of them smile. Not that he blamed them; theirs must be a heavy load to carry. He'd seen Leia struggle with it sometimes, and wondered how she managed. Who knew? Maybe an old family friend would help.

"So, is he like an uncle to you?"

"What?" Leia laughed. "Oh, no, he's only a year or two older than I am. We were at school together. I was never in any classes with him, though. I could never understand what he was talking about. Very few of us did. He's an absolute genius."

Han turned away from the princess, his face troubled. "Chewie, have you picked up anything on the sensors yet?" he asked, focusing again on piloting the ship.

He didn't really listen while the Wookiee informed him that if he'd seen anything he'd surely not have kept it to himself. Han was thinking about picking up Alderaan's famed humanitarian, the boy genius, and wondering if it was the task—or the individual—that bothered him so much.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone who read and who reviewed. And thanks again to the world's greatest beta team: jublke and StatsGrandma57!  
><em>

**What Makes A Hero?**

_Chapter Two_

**Han's grip on the**_** Millennium Falcon's**_** control yoke was light, his breathing slow and even. **He didn't want anyone to know—actually, he didn't want her High and Mightiness to know—how tense he was. He thought he was doing a pretty good job of it. During their slingshot trip around the ice planet Renas, he'd only seen one Imperial scout ship, which they'd bypassed undetected. In Han's mind, though, that was still one Imperial too many, and the prickly feeling on the back of his neck convinced him they were bound to see more.

"He's on Iqobal's eleventh moon," Leia said. It was the third time she'd reminded him. Han couldn't remember another time he'd seen the princess this eager about something, and for some incomprehensible reason, it irritated the sithspit out of him. Which, in turn, only aggravated him more.

"Repeating yourself isn't going to get us there any faster, your Worship," Han barked at her. His hand moved over to the sensor controls. The screens were still virginally clear. There was something wrong with that, too, he thought.

"Chewie, are you picking up anything?"

Chewbacca snuffed snidely about beings who repeated themselves, but dutifully checked his sensor feed. He assured Han that all was clear.

"Okay, let's take her in."

The two pilots navigated the ship around the small moon, then brought it in for a delicate landing, raising only a small cloud of greenish-brown dust. A quick check of a few gauges confirmed that the atmosphere was breathable, if a little chilly. Han grabbed a jacket as he moved to the hatch and disengaged the locks.

"Your friend was lucky he found himself a hidey-hole with breathable air," Han commented as the boarding ramp lowered.

"I'm sure it wasn't luck," Leia followed Han down the ramp into the barren lunar landscape. "Astin doesn't believe in luck. He's always very careful to make sure he knows all his options before he does anything."

Han bit back a snarl. _Of course he doesn't believe in luck! _He was really starting to hate this guy, and he hadn't even met him yet. Swallowing back his temper, Han pulled out his blaster and motioned for Chewie to go right while he went left, scanning for possible hazards.

Shouldering her duffel, Leia stepped confidently forward. Checking a hand-held geo-scanner she'd pulled from her bag, she indicated a large outcropping of rocks, clearly visible in the distance. "Over there," she pointed. "Those rocks must be where he said he'd taken shelter." She started walking in that direction.

She came to an abrupt halt as Han's hand clamped around her upper arm.

"What do you think you're doing? Let go of me!" Leia snapped, trying to pull her arm free.

His hand didn't loosen. "What if it's a trap?" he asked her. "This whole trip has just been too easy. I don't like it; it doesn't feel right." He didn't add that any trip where he didn't get shot at these days seemed too easy.

"Don't be ridiculous," the princess scoffed. "I'm sure it's fine. Besides, I'd think you'd be happy, earning your money without much effort." With a quick jerk, Leia pulled her arm out of Solo's grip and started toward the distant rock formation.

"Fine, your Worshipfulness!" Han held up both hands in surrender, one hand still clutching his blaster. His temper flared to supernova as she walked away. "But I better still get paid if you get killed!" he called after her rapidly disappearing form.

Chewbacca motioned toward the princess and barked a question.

"Of course we're going with her," Han answered. He hurried to catch up with Leia. "_Kriff!_" he muttered hotly to himself, "you'd think this Astin guy was her long lost love."

Chewie stopped dead in his tracks and looked at his friend. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he tilted his head to one side.

Han turned back, irritation mixing with a hint of confusion as he looked at his friend. "What's your problem?" he snarled. "Are you coming or not?"

The Wookiee shrugged and continued on.

####

"**Astin! Astin? Are you there? It's Leia!"**

Han scowled at the volume of Leia's voice, but he'd given up trying to quiet her. Whoever this guy was, he was important to her, and Han knew he was just going to have to deal with it. What he didn't like was why the whole thing was bothering him so much. And why Chewie kept staring at him.

"Astin?" Leia called again. She was starting to sound anxious.

Han heard scrabbling in the rocks; quickly stepping in front of Leia, he aimed his blaster in that direction. The figure that emerged didn't shock him, exactly, but if this was Astin Kieriearn, he certainly wasn't what Han had expected.

This exceptional young man, this paragon of all Alderaanian ideals, was, well, ordinary. Having listened to Leia, Han had visualized someone more…godlike, he supposed. Instead of tall and imposing, Astin was of average height and a little bit pudgy. He had a shock of unruly, rust-colored hair and pale blue eyes that seemed to be in a permanent squint. That, Han assumed, was from all of the time the guy'd spent poring over datapads and looking through microgoggles. Han found himself throwing his own shoulders back and standing a bit taller. Chewbacca sniggered.

Kieriearn moved forward with all the temerity of a cornered womp rat, his eyes never leaving Han's blaster. It was only when he saw Leia waiting behind him that he seemed willing to keep walking past the smuggler.

"Leia!" The smile that lit Astin's features was blinding. "It's you! It's really you. I was sure you were dead!" The bright look faded. "Everybody's dead," he finished.

The princess said nothing; she only pulled the man into a tight embrace. Astin hugged her tightly back. Han lowered his blaster and looked away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as he watched the two old friends reunite. If they _were_ just old friends. Han supposed it was possible that Leia was merely be happy and relieved to find another survivor of her homeworld's destruction, but the look on Astin's face told a different story. If the young man wasn't in love with the princess, Han would be willing to give up the _Falcon! _Terrific. Just terrific. If Luke wasn't bad enough, now there was another kid to moon all over her Worship!

Finally, Han cleared his throat—he was starting to feel like a voyeur.

Leia pulled back, still holding on to Astin's arm.

"Astin Kieriearn, this is Han Solo, Captain of the _Millennium Falcon_, and his first mate Chewbacca."

The Wookiee ducked his head in polite greeting; the Corellian merely stood there.

"They're with you?" Astin asked. "Well, they must be," he amended. "I guess I've just been hiding for too long, I was sure they were pirates or something."

Han felt his temper rise. He was a smuggler, not a pirate! And who was this little man to judge him, anyway?

"Captain Solo and Chewbacca are—"

"We're part of the Alliance," Han stated flatly.

He'd never said that before, Han realized. He wasn't sure why he'd said it now. He wasn't even sure if he meant what he'd said. All he knew was that he was tired of hearing the terms _mercenary _and _self-centered_ coming from Leia. And Luke, and so many others. From childhood on, all he'd wanted was to be respectable—and respected. Right now he was uncomfortably aware that he wanted the respect in the eyes of one princess. _Kriff! _What was happening to him?

Chewie grunted, surprised, but obviously pleased that their status had apparently changed_. _Leia appeared to be speechless; she only stared at him, her eyebrows soaring toward her , she couldn't believe those words had come from Han Solo. _Good! _Maybe now she'd be a little nicer to him.

Unexpectedly satisfied, Han felt the time had come to move things along. "I don't know if you brought anything with you, but if you did you'd better grab it. We need to get back to the ship. If the Empire is looking for you, we shouldn't make it too easy for them to find you."

"I wasn't able to bring very much." Astin indicated a satchel slung over his shoulder. "But I do have almost all of my research data here."

"Good. Let's get going." Han started walking back the way they'd come. "The sooner we're out of here, the better."

"But," Astin began.

Why, Han wondered, was there always a but?

"But what?" he asked, turning back to face the younger man.

"I was really hoping we could go and get my samples, too." Astin looked a little uncertain. "I'm sure they'd be beneficial to the Alliance," he explained.

"Where are they?" Leia asked him.

"On Thyferra."

####

**"No, we are not going to Thyferra!" Han's shout left no room for argument.** Behind him, Chewbacca waved his arms and bellowed his own disapproval of the idea.

Astin stared at the two smugglers with a combination of fear and defiance. He turned to look at Leia for support.

"Han, why don't you stop yelling for a moment and listen to what he has to say," the princess suggested.

"We're going back to Yavin; there's nothing to discuss. I am not going to risk my ship—or anyone in it—on a fool's errand!" he snarled.

"Just listen to me!" The scientist's voice had risen in volume to match Han's.

Chewbacca warbled a suggestion. Han looked around, obviously just remembering that they were standing on a barren moon in Imperial occupied space.

"Chewie's right," he admitted. "This is a bad place for an argument."

"Discussion," Leia corrected.

"Discussion, certainly, your Highness," Han snarled. "Let's get back to the _Falcon." _Wordlessly, he spun around again and headed toward the ship. Chewbacca groaned low in his throat and made shooing motions at the two young Alderaanians. Thus encouraged, they followed the captain back to his ship.

Han was pacing back and forth just inside the open hatchway when Chewbacca herded the others up the ramp. Obviously, the walk back had done nothing to improve Han's temper.

"Give me one good reason—just one—why I shouldn't lift off right now and head back to Yavin?" Han fairly bristled with impatience. He closed the hatch with a slap of his palm on the pad.

"I can give you a billion," Astin said.

Han stopped mid-pace. "A billion?"

"More or less."

"Did you find a way to produce less-expensive bacta?" Leia asked.

"Yes." Astin shifted a little where he stood. "Look, can't we go and sit down someplace? My feet are killing me."

Barely hiding a smirk, Han led the younger man to the lounge area.

Once they were settled, the young researcher explained himself.

"I started out coming here trying to find a way to produce bacta faster and with less expense. I wasn't having much luck. I was actually ready to pack up my research and leave when I heard about Alderaan." He paused and sucked in a deep breath. "After that, I went back to work, harder than before. I felt like I needed to do something good to counteract all the evil." Astin gave an embarrassed little smile. "Well, at least a little of the evil. What I discovered was a method for not only making bacta cheaper and more efficiently—but a way to make it portable!"

Three startled sets of eyes stared at Astin Kieriearn

"Portable?" Leia asked.

"Instead of having to transport the ill or injured person to a bacta tank, picture being able to bring the bacta to them—at the scene of an accident, or on the battlefield." Astin's pale blue eyes glittered with an almost manic intensity. "I won't bore you with technical details you wouldn't understand," he continued, oblivious to Han's scornful look. "The easiest way to explain it is that it's a combination of topical and subcutaneous application. The tests I've conducted so far have had remarkable results. It could save billions of lives." He made careful eye contact with each of his listeners. "Now you see why I have to go back and get my samples."

Han looked at Leia. He knew she was thinking about how this would help the rebel forces. The medics were almost always short of bacta, or the credits to purchase it—and that was usually through the black market.

But Han was thinking of just one person, a friend of his; a young man named Jarik, who'd died of injuries he'd sustained during the raid on Yselia, not all that long ago. If there'd been something like this new bacta, maybe that kid would still be alive today. He would have been just about Luke's age, Han guessed, if he'd lived.

"You've got your notes." Han pointed at the researcher's satchel. "Why can't you just remake the stuff?"

"I can't risk the Imperial scientists finding those samples," Astin answered.

Han nodded.

But Thyferra? That was not a place the princess should go right now. The planet was crawling with Imperials; they were trying to get control of the current bacta production. Han knew that if they were successful, the resistance wouldn't see a drop of the stuff. But if the boy genius had a better way…

Han figured he could probably get on and off planet okay, especially if he could talk Astin into helping him. The hard part would be trying to convince her Holiness to stay onboard the _Falcon_ with Chewie. She always had to be in the middle of everything, he thought sourly. She didn't seem to understand that the Empire was looking for her. They wanted her, and they knew what she looked like. Of course, they wanted Han too, but at this point they didn't know who he was. He was just the guy who flew that freighter above the Death Star and sent Darth Vader spinning off into the outer reaches of nowhere.

Yeah, he could do it; he just had to figure out a way to keep her Worshipfulness' pretty little behind out of danger. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smother the prickling.

They were going to Thyferra.


	3. Chapter 3

**What Makes a Hero?**

_Chapter Three_

**Han had a plan. Well, he had the beginnings of a plan. **The problem was Astin. Trying to get any useful information out of him was like trying to pick sand fleas off a bantha—an exercise in futility. One minute he was ready to charge in and get all the _kriffing_ samples before anyone else could; the next minute he was saying they should just leave them—that he had his notes and he didn't need anything else. It was enough to make Han want to beat him senseless, which he already wanted to do, just because.

Eventually Leia stepped in to mediate, declaring that she was tired of listening to them. There was no way she was going to let the Empire even get a look at Astin's research, she informed them, and if they couldn't figure out a way to get into that laboratory building, she was just going to have to do it herself. Since nobody seemed willing to argue with her Worshipfulness, Han's plan had been born.

Now he and Chewie were closeted in the _Falcon's _cockpit in order to work out the details of how Han would get in and out of the facility where the bacta was stashed. Chewbacca wasn't happy with Han's plan, and made his displeasure perfectly clear with a long, rumbling monologue about stupid ideas and unacceptable risks and _why wasn't Han going to bring Chewie with him!_

"Yeah, I know it's a little light on specifics," Han countered, interrupting the Wookiee's rambling snarls, "but I'm really good at improvising." He flashed a blinding grin at his friend. "I'm at my best when I don't know what I'm doing."

Chewbacca growled sarcastically.

"You know what I mean." The smile widened. "I'm flexible."

Apparently Wookiees were no more susceptible to Han's charms than Alderaanian princesses were. Chewbacca's arms flailed in frustration.

"Keep your fur on! It was the best I could do." Han's face grew serious. "I can't be any more specific because Astin can't or won't tell me any more." He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. "But I'm not going alone; I'll have the kid with me."

Chewie warbled his thoughts on that particular subject.

"Hey, he's not my first choice either! But if he wants those samples so bad, he's gonna have to work for 'em."

Han turned to look out the viewport at the barren lunar surface. A low, almost subsonic rumbling issued from his co-pilot.

"I told you why you can't come with; someone has to keep the princess safe. Since she never listens to anything I tell her, it has to be you." Han's lopsided smile was almost sheepish. "Besides," he continued, turning back, "you're strong enough you can probably actually keep her here."

Chewie snorted out a chuckle. Then his blue eyes narrowed as he asked his friend his next question.

"And I already told you why she can't come with us! If any Imperial sees her, they'll try and get her." Han's lips compressed to a thin line. "Vader wants her bad, and he's not going to get her."

Chewbacca wiggled his eyebrows.

"If the Imps get her," Han continued defensively, "we don't get paid!"

Chewie barked a question.

"Yes, I'm sure that's all I'm worried about." Suddenly impatient, Han unfolded himself from his seat. "C'mon, let's go tell her Worship how this is all gonna to work."

####

**The sound of voices, followed by a short laugh, made Han pause in the access corridor just outside the **_**Falcon's **_**main hold. **He wasn't eavesdropping, he told himself. It was his ship, and he was entitled to know everything that went on inside her bulkheads. Besides, he wanted to see how her high and mightiness was reacting to Astin's obvious infatuation with her. Not that it mattered to him; she could be as giggly as a schoolgirl if she wanted to. He just hoped she wouldn't be.

"And do you remember what your father said?" he heard Astin ask the princess.

Leia's laugh was musical. "He said that if Winter and I ever tried anything like that again that I wouldn't see the outside of the palace until I was seventeen. I don't suppose you got into any trouble after our little adventure?" she asked him.

"Of course not! My dad was so wrapped up in his work that he had no idea what I was doing that night."

The princess seemed to be handling Astin's infatuation with her just fine, Han noted glumly. He'd never heard Leia sound like this before. She seemed comfortable, relaxed—happy. Han knew she really didn't have too many things to be happy about. After all, she was just a kid, and they had her practically running this rebellion thing. She'd been a prisoner on the Death Star, probably tortured, then forced to watch as her whole life was blown to bits in front of her. So, no, she didn't have too much to laugh about. Han knew he should be glad that there was someone who could make her forget all that.

He _was_ glad. The problem, Han realized, was that he wished it was him that made her smile like that, instead of the brilliant young kid she'd grown up with.

Han shook his head. There was obviously something wrong with him.

He nearly jumped when a large, furry hand tapped him none too gently on the shoulder.

"What?" he hissed, as Chewbacca groaned a question to him.

"Yeah, I'm going to tell them what the plan is." Han looked up over his shoulder at his co-pilot. "I'm just giving them a chance to catch-up. They haven't seen each other in a long time."

Another question followed Chewie's first.

Han was so indignant he almost forgot to keep his voice down.

"You're crazy, you overgrown furball! Jealous? Why would you think I'm jealous? I have no reason to be jealous of anyone or anything." Han waved an angry finger in the vicinity of the Wookiee's nose.

Chewbacca merely waved a hairy arm at the two Alderaanians and chuckled.

"Han?" Leia called out, hearing the noise from the corridor.

Shooting another irate look at his friend, the smuggler swaggered into the lounge area, followed by Chewie. He noticed that the princess's duffel was open on the holotable. It was willpower alone that kept Han from peering inside it.

"Well, your Worship, I think I've figured out a way to get those bacta samples." Han perched on the edge of the engineering station, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"I didn't think you were willing to risk your precious ship on a fool's errand." Leia tossed his words back at him.

"Yeah, but—" Han stopped to consider the princess and the fire in her eyes.

"But what?" Leia asked, ready to argue.

"But I can see where that kind of bacta would be a real help for the Alliance, and we don't want the Empire to get it."

Now the princess stopped to consider Han, looking him up and down. Her temper cooled, and she allowed a pleased smile to soften her features. "So, what's our plan?"

####

**"That's a terrible plan!" Leia objected. "Couldn't the two of you come up with something that might actually work?" **

Chewbacca, standing behind her, rumbled out a smug _I told you so_ to his friend_._

"It's a good plan, Princess. It'll work. You know I do best when there's room for a little improvisation." He beamed crookedly at her.

"I've seen you improvise." Leia paced the length of the hold, then turned. "You need me to come with you," she stated. It was the third time she'd said it in as many minutes.

"Sweetheart, I don't _need _anything! And I sure don't want you coming with, needing me to rescue you all the time!"

"You! Rescue me? I don't think you're remembering things too clearly!" Leia stormed back across the lounge, stopping directly in front of Han. He stood up; she tilted her head back to look him in the eye. "You can't get in and out of a secure, Imperial-controlled facility by yourself."

"Hey, what about me?" Astin broke in, indignant. The two combatants ignored him.

"You can't take Chewie, he's too obvious," she continued.

Chewbacca barked out his own objections. They ignored him as well.

"So, you need me to come with you!" Leia concluded.

"The kid and I will handle it just fine," Han assured her.

"He's not Luke," she reminded him.

"Who's Luke?" Astin asked, a puzzled crease forming between his pale blue eyes.

"Luke Skywalker. Hero of the Rebellion," Han explained. A warm feeling spread through him; there was a crack in the plastoid of the super-scientist's armor of perfection. Leia didn't trust him in a fight, and right now her whole world was about fighting. Han could work with that. "He blew up the Death Star," he continued, the smirk firmly in place now, "with my help!"

"I'm coming with you!" Leia insisted.

"Your Worship? Are you worried about me?" Smug didn't begin to describe the smile on Solo's face.

"No! I'm, no. No!" Leia stumbled for a response. "I just want to make sure we actually get the samples." She stalked back across the lounge, Han following close behind her.

"Listen to me," he said, taking her by the shoulders, turning her to look at him. He wasn't smiling now. "You are not going anywhere near that place. It's filled with Imperials—stormtroopers, officers, gods knows who else. They want you, pretty bad. They know what you look like." Han gave her a quick shake. "You are staying on the _Falcon_ with Chewie."

"Captain Solo," the Princess asked archly, "are _you_ worried about _me_?"

"What? No!" Han dropped his arms. "But if they get you, you're endangering the whole Rebellion. Do you want that?" Not to mention the fact that if the Imps got her, he'd just have to go and rescue her.

Leia opened her mouth, closed it again without saying anything. The endangering the Rebellion comment had hit its mark. Han smiled. Chewbacca grunted a question from across the room.

"What did he say?" Leia snapped.

"He said don't you hate it when he's right," Han chortled, the grin returning.

Leia crossed her arms tightly across her middle. Her foot began to tap.

"Hey, your Worship, don't get so excited! It'll work; it's a great plan." Han's look grew devilish. "Trust me."


	4. Chapter 4

_Again, heartfelt thanks to my betas jublke and statsgrandma57 for their invaluable help. And an equally heartfelt thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, and followed the story so far. _

**What Makes A Hero?**

_Chapter Four_

"**Why do you let him call you that?" Astin asked Leia. "Doesn't it bother you?"** They were alone together in the _Millennium_ _Falcon's_ lounge. Han and Chewbacca had gone back to the cockpit, readying the ship for the short trip to Thyferra.

"What?" Leia looked up, startled. She hadn't been paying any attention to her old friend; her mind was obviously focused on something else.

"That Corellian. He calls you your Worship and other very disrespectful names. Why do you allow it?

Leia smiled. "It bothers me a little, I suppose. It used to annoy me a great deal more, but I'm accustomed to it now. I don't know if it's disrespectful or not. It's just the way Han is."

"But you're a princess," Astin objected.

"But I'm not his princess."

"You're his boss then!"

Now Leia laughed. "Trust me, no one is Han Solo's boss but Han Solo!"

The young man nervously fingered at Leia's bag, which was still sitting on the game table.

"What's in here?" he asked, changing the subject.

Leia reached in and pulled out an item; it was a rather old and battered datapad. Her finger slid over the power toggle and with a faint whine, it came to life. Wordlessly, she slipped it across the smooth surface of the table.

"_The Grazers in the Grass_," Astin read. "I haven't seen a copy of this in years. My parents didn't go in much for children's poems, or anything that wasn't built on a solid foundation of facts. " He ran his fingers lovingly over the first illustration. "Where did you get it?"

"Those of us who are survivors, we get together sometimes, and just talk about things." Leia shifted in her seat, as if the bench had suddenly become uncomfortable. "We've gathered together all the things we have left—it's like a memorial." She smiled shyly. "I brought a few things with me, just in case you wanted to…remember. This is one of them."

"Thank you," Astin answered solemnly.

"Okay kids, strap in. We're ready to lift off." Han's voice crackled out of the ship's comm speaker, situated high on the bulkhead over the holotable. Both passengers dutifully fastened themselves in. Astin looked a little nervous when the deckplates vibrated as the _Falcon's_ engines revved up.

"Is this ship really safe?" he asked, looking around the rather shabby looking hold.

"It's safe enough—and it's the fastest ship around," Leia explained, a tiny note of pride sneaking into her voice.

Astin reached for the datapad again as the ship took flight. He read silently for a minute, then stopped to wipe at his eyes. "They're all gone," he murmured, "all of them."

"No, not everyone." Leia reached for his hand and squeezed it encouragingly. "There are more of us than you would expect. And we keep discovering more survivors every day."

The young man continued as if he hadn't heard the princess. "My parents are dead, yours too." He didn't notice the pain that blossomed on Leia's face. "The people we went to school with, worked with." He looked up with grim eyes. "Even my two assistants are gone, killed by the Empire."

Leia focused her attention on Astin's last statement. "Your two assistants, they were with you here? Well, on Thyferra," she corrected herself, "where you were doing your research?"

He just nodded.

"What happened to them?"

"They stayed behind to act as decoys so I could get away with my notes. I saw two stormtroopers go in, I heard the shots. Now they're gone, too."

"You saw the stormtroopers and you didn't even try to help them?" Leia's eyes widened in disbelief. "You just let them get killed?"

"They stayed behind to make sure my research didn't get taken," Astin explained. He tried to look defiant, but only achieved defensive. "What was I supposed to do? I'm not a fighter!" His eyes shifted toward the _Falcon's _cockpit. "Or a killer."

_Han's not a killer! _

Leia thought it, but she didn't say it. Why? Because it wasn't true—exactly. Han Solo had taken more lives than Astin Kierinan could dream of, Leia knew that. Certainly, they both had, in the heat of battle. Even barring that awful necessity, it was different, somehow, when she thought of Han. When he killed, it was self-defense, or more likely, in defense of someone else. To Leia, it never seemed unthinking or callous.

She didn't know what to think about Astin. Leia was used to Luke, Han, Chewbacca, Wedge Antilles—and hundreds of others; fighters who wouldn't dream of just walking away and letting someone else die for them. She looked thoughtfully at her old friend. She didn't think she'd ever known a more harmless individual, careful at all costs not to injure another living thing. But somehow, he hadn't thought twice about the fate of his two co-workers. It was something she was having a hard time comprehending.

Astin was a genius, smarter than anyone Leia had ever known, but his life had been very sheltered. Even more sheltered than her own had been, though that hardly seemed possible. His parents had been brilliant, driven researchers, and they had instilled that obsession in their only child very early in his life. It seemed to Leia that he hadn't learned about anything outside of the laboratory. When other adolescents had been worrying about friends and grades, Astin had been hard at work on life-saving research. He didn't appear to grasp empathy, or even dealing with people outside the research environment. There was his work, and there were the people whose job it was to help him do it. That was all he knew. Even worse, as she saw it, was the fact that he didn't seem to understand that he had a responsibility to the people who worked for him. As a member of the royal house of Alderaan, Leia had learned that lesson very early in her life.

Leia knew that it wasn't her place to judge him, but she could guide him. Astin was, by nature, a sweet and gentle soul. He couldn't possibly have not cared about his assistants—look how upset he seemed about their deaths now. No, he was just too inexperienced with life to understand. But she could help him see.

"Leia." Astin's quiet voice brought her attention back to the present. "Those are just two more Alderaanian lives to add to the billions the Empire has stolen. They need to pay for every one of them." Astin squared his shoulders. "I have the way to make them pay."

"Pay?" The princess looked blank.

"When I was working on the bacta, after…after the Death Star, I found a way to infiltrate some of the bacta with a certain microorganism." He paused to marshal his thoughts. "If someone uses that particular bacta strain, they'll be exposed to that organism. It effectively blocks the efficacy of the bacta. There is no cure. All we have to do is make sure the Imperials get that strain of bacta. That's really why I need to get back to those samples—to make sure the Imperial's get the modified strain," he confided to her.

The Princess was silent, speechless, for several long moments. "You mean you contaminated the bacta? You poisoned it?"

"I suppose you could say that," Astin said, sounding like a sulky little boy. "But it's for a good cause!"

"No, it's not, Astin! What you're suggesting is mass murder."

"So is what they did to Alderaan, Leia!" Astin grabbed at her hand. "They murdered four billion innocent Alderaanians! What's wrong with killing a few thousand of them?"

"What's wrong is that it's murder. And how do you know that the poisoned bacta won't go to the wrong people? Or that the organism you put in it won't find its way into other strains of bacta? If the Alliance did what you're suggesting, we would be no better than Tarkin and Vader."

"I'm not talking about billions of people, a whole planet, like the people they killed. It'd probably be just a few thousand. It would be enough to weaken their fighting forces, and give the Alliance the upper hand. It would give you a chance to win."

For just a minute, Astin's argument sounded so rational to Leia, so reasonable, that her own reaction scared her. A lot. She chose her next words very carefully.

"Do not include me—or the Rebel Alliance—in any of this. You are talking about mass murder." Leia held up her hand to stop Astin from voicing his objections. "The Alliance is fighting to end atrocities and terrorism like this, not to perpetuate them." She lifted her chin and straightened her spine, looking every bit the princess she was. "And if you try to do this, I will do everything in my power to stop you."

Astin's answer, _you can't stop me_, was lost in the whining of the _Falcon's _repulsors. Whatever Leia was going to do, either try again to talk sense into her old friend, or tackle him and lock him in one of the ship's smuggling compartments, was going to have to wait. It really had been a short trip: they were already landing on Thyferra.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you, thank you to everyone who's reading, following, and/or reviewing the story. You make me smile! And, yet again, thanks to the world's greatest betas jublke and StatsGrandma57 for your eagle eyes and insightful comments. _

**What Makes a Hero?**

_Chapter 5  
><em>

"**Come on, brain boy, let's go get these samples of yours and get out of here." **Han had set the ship down in an old, played-out quarry. There were signs of other ships having used this area—with the large Imperial presence on-planet, even smugglers had to be careful—but the _Millennium Falcon _was the only one parked there now. It was just as well; Han wasn't eager for anyone to be able to identify his ship.

Astin rose from his seat at the game table and followed Han as he headed for the main hatch.

"Han, wait a minute," Leia called after him. Either he didn't hear her, or he was ignoring her. Leia assumed it was the latter.

"Chewie, get the kid a blaster, would you?"

The Wookiee snarled a comment about the uselessness of Astin having any sort of weapon, but he selected a small blaster from the weapons locker and handed it to the startled scientist.

Han stood at the hatch, waiting for the younger man to join him. "You do know how it works, don't you?" he asked, only half in jest, indicating the small weapon.

"I understand the mechanism, of course." Astin looked down at the blaster in his hand. "I've never fired one before, though."

Han grimaced. "Well, just point it at somebody other than me and pull the trigger when I tell you to," he instructed shortly. He hit the slap pad and the hatch lifted open.

"Han!" Leia tried again, louder this time.

"Come on, Astin." Han urged the younger man along. "The faster we move, the safer the princess stays."

"What?" Astin paused, an uncertain look on his face.

Han raised an eyebrow in disbelief at the younger man, then grabbed him by the arm and propelled him down the ramp. "We don't want anyone having enough time to find the ship," he explained.

"Han!" The peremptory tone of Leia's voice finally stopped him.

"Yes, your Highnessness?"

"I need to talk to you for a minute."

"I don't have time for fond farewells right now, your Worship," Han said with a smirk. He pulled out his blaster to check its charge, then re-holstered the weapon.

Leia looked out to where Astin stood at the foot of the boarding ramp, shifting nervously from foot to foot. The warm, heavy air drifting in the open hatch was an unpleasant surprise after the cool air of the moon they'd just left.

"It's about Astin," the princess began.

Han pressed his lips together. "I won't let him get hurt," he assured her, not bothering to hide his bad temper.

"No, that's not it. It's about the samples he wants to get."

"Don't worry, your Worship, I know how important this is to you." He smiled thinly at her. "And here I thought you were worried about me." _Or_ _hoped_, Han thought.

He stalked down the ramp. "Come on, let's get this over with," he snarled at Astin.

"Han, wait!" Leia called after him. But it was too late, the two men had already disappeared into the shadows beyond the quarry. She started to follow after them, but found a hairy arm blocking her way.

"Chewie, we need to go after them," Leia protested.

The Wookiee shook his head emphatically in the negative. Leia didn't understand everything he said, but she got enough to know he wasn't about to let her leave, and that he was following his captain's instructions.

"I know he told me to stay here, but he doesn't understand what's going on."

Chewbacca closed the hatch and steered the princess back into the hold area. Only then did he appear ready to listen to her.

"Astin is talking about murdering thousands of beings, and right now he's got Han helping him," she stated.

The Wookiee barked that this wasn't possible, that Han would have nothing to do with murder!

Leia could tell Chewie was angered by her unintended accusation, so she recapped her discussion with Astin, as briefly as she could, since she didn't want those two getting too far ahead. The princess didn't believe that the scientist would do anything to hurt Han, but she was pretty sure he wouldn't do anything to ensure his safety, either. She found herself wondering just what her old friend was actually capable of. Vengeance could be a powerful motivator.

By the time Leia had finished explaining about the tainted samples and Astin's apparent disregard for anything other than his precious research—and his need for revenge—Chewie was bellowing and waving his arms in frustration.

"Now do you understand why we have to go after them?" she asked Chewie, when she could finally interrupt his rumbling monologue on the basic stupidity of all human beings.

Chewbacca barked and groaned, torn between wanting to help his friend, and his desire to keep the princess safely on the _Falcon._

"Chewie, I am not staying here while you go after them!" Leia informed him, accurately guessing the cause of his anxiety.

The Wookiee rumbled ominously.

"I know—it's dangerous," Leia conceded, "and I appreciate your concern. But I have to go. I may be the only person Astin will listen to."

He grunted emphatically, shaking his head no. Leia smiled.

"I know you could pick him up and sling him over your shoulder, but I think my way is better."

Chewie tilted his head in inquiry.

"He'll listen to me because I'm his princess."

####

**Now that they were here, Han was starting to doubt the wisdom of having Astin come with him instead of Chewbacca. **There was no way the two-meter-tall Wookiee could have been any more conspicuous than the young Alderaanian. If there was one crack in the pavement Astin didn't trip on, or one wall that he couldn't hide behind—well, Han didn't know how he'd missed them. If it weren't for the kid's single-minded drive to get those _krinking_ bacta samples, he might have suspected Astin was _trying_ to get them captured!

"You're sure this is the right place?" Han asked. The two men huddled in a doorway near the service entrance of the building where Astin had done the bulk of his bacta research.

The younger man nodded. Sweat ran down his flushed cheeks and plastered his ruddy hair to his forehead. Wiping his own damp face with the back of his hand, Han found himself wishing for the coolness of the moon they'd left behind. This place was as miserable as Yavin 4.

"You know exactly where your samples are?" Han continued, watching as Astin nodded again.

"Do you know if the Imps know this is where you hid them?"

"I don't think so. My assistants led them to another building in the complex. The stormtroopers were focusing on that building when I escaped." He raised his arm, pointing at a taller building beyond the one they were planning to enter.

Han slapped the arm down, out of the line of sight. "Your assistants?" He looked at the other man. "Do we need to get them out too? You might have mentioned that sooner."

"Oh, they're dead," Astin said calmly. "They acted as decoys so I could get away."

"That doesn't seem to bother you too much," Han observed.

"They knew how important it was for me to escape."

Han's eyes narrowed as he looked closely at the younger man. Was it possible that the deaths of his co-workers didn't bother him? Or was he so focused on his work that he blocked everything—and everyone—else out? Well, either way, it wasn't Han's problem. Let her Worship deal with her questionable hero after they got off this miserable planet. He peered past the edge of the doorway—the coast was clear.

"Come on!" Han tapped Astin on the arm. "Let's go get your stuff and get out of here." He grabbed the man's sleeve and towed him toward the other building.

####

"**Did Han even tell you where they were going?" **

Leia and Chewie crept along the edge of the research complex, keeping in the shelter of the outbuildings in order to avoid the stormtrooper guards visible in the central courtyard.

Chewbacca growled out a longish answer of which Leia understood maybe every five or ten words. She really needed to learn _Shyriiwook_ if Han and Chewbacca were going to remain with the Rebellion. Obviously, she couldn't depend on Threepio to be available all of the time.

"I'm sorry, Chewie, I'm not getting much of that. If you could just nod and point." Leia smiled sheepishly up at him. The Wookiee's blue eyes crinkled with understanding. He pointed toward a low brick building, then grabbed the princess' arm and pulled her along with him.

They had almost made it to the building Chewie had indicated when the Wookiee suddenly pulled on Leia's arm so fiercely she thought he might dislocate her shoulder. He pressed the Princess' body up against the wall of a smallish storage shed, shielding her from view.

Leia sneezed, brushing Wookiee hair off her face. She managed to poke her head around and underneath his arm so she could breathe.

"What?" she asked breathlessly. Then she saw. Stormtroopers, a whole squad, heading into the building where Han and Astin had gone. She pulled her blaster free and started to move toward the building, stopping only when Chewbacca's hands took her shoulders in an unyielding grip.

"Chewie, we have to help them!"

He shook his shaggy head and pointed the princess back toward the comparative safety of the _Millennium_ _Falcon, _his urgent snarls and growls leaving no room for misunderstanding his meaning. He would go after Han—alone.

"That's more stormtroopers than even you can handle," Leia objected. As Chewie prepared to argue the point, the princess slipped neatly out of his loosened grip and headed toward the building.

With a muted howl of frustration, Chewie pounded off after her.


	6. Chapter 6

_Many, many thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed and/or favorite this story. I continue to smile. Also, my continuing heartfelt thanks to my betas jublke and StatsGrandma57. Not only do you catch my mistakes, but you make me work harder and write better. I owe you guys!_

**What Makes A Hero?**

_Chapter Six_

**After the stultifying heat outside, the antiseptic coolness of the research lab made Han jittery.** However, he was pretty sure that his nerves had more to do with the presence of a trio of stormtroopers at the end of the corridor than with the temperature inside of the building. He ducked into a cleaner-droid storage alcove, dragging Astin in with him. Having the scientist blundering along with him wasn't helping his stress level any, either.

"So, all I have to do is go into the room on the second level marked 2 Alpha and pull out all the vials from the second drawer in the cabinet labeled nutro-enhancers?" Han asked.

Astin's head bobbled in the affirmative.

Han looked up at a schematic posted on the wall.

"And the way to the second level is just beyond those stormtroopers." Han's face set in hard lines. "This should be fun," he muttered.

"Fun? Are you crazy?" Astin croaked in a loud whisper. Han clamped a hand over the man's mouth.

"Keep it down, will ya?" He glared fiercely at the younger man, whose eyes wheeled wildly back and forth over Han's fingers. Han wondered how anyone this smart could be so stupid! "I need to get past those stormtroopers," Han continued. "Unless there's another way up, I'm going to need a diversion. Can you think of anything that won't get us both killed?" He let his hand fall away from Astin's mouth and back to his side.

"I'm not coming with you?"

"It's safer for one person to go instead of two," Han explained.

"And you'll bring them right back to me?"

Han felt his over-extended patience with Astin Kieriearn reach its snapping point. "What?" Han ground out between clenched teeth. "Are you afraid I'm going to steal them and sell 'em to the highest bidder?"

"No!"Astin objected.

To Han, however, it seemed like that was exactly what the kid thought.

"No," Astin repeated. "It's just that some of the bacta is dangerous."

"Dangerous? It's bacta."

"Not all—"

Han clamped his hand over Astin's mouth again. Peering out, he could see the stormtroopers were on the move. Several tense moments later he allowed himself a deep breath. Something had the troopers on alert, but at least they were going in the right direction. Away from the lift leading to the second level and room 2 Alpha.

"Okay," Han looked up and down the corridor and pulled his blaster free from its holster. "Let's go get your dangerous bacta." He didn't add that he didn't trust Astin to be left by himself.

####

**Chewbacca watched the small female in front of him with a combination of exasperation and admiration. **She stood not much taller than a yearling cub, but her courage matched, perhaps even surpassed, that of the greatest of Wookiee warriors. He could tell that Han was unsure of how to deal with such a powerful female, but he hoped that his friend would figure it out soon—it was very frustrating to watch him fight against all of the obvious signs. Chewie supposed that Han was still mourning that other female, the red-haired one called Bria, but this little one was undeniably a much better match for the Corellian. Really! Why did humans have to make finding a mate such a complicated procedure?

Any further contemplation of the problem would have to wait, however; the princess had opened the door to the building where Han and the other human had gone. She was determined to follow after them. Chewbacca needed to focus his attention on keeping the humans alive—matchmaking would have to wait until later.

####

**Leia led the Wookiee through the sterile white corridors of the research facility.** She chose her route by instinct alone, since neither she nor Chewie knew exactly where the other two men had gone. She didn't understand what it was that led her to turn down one corridor and not another, but she was sure they were traveling in the right direction. Maybe it was her connection to Astin, she thought. However, it didn't really matter what it was, as long as they caught up to him and Han before the stormtroopers did.

And there sure were a bunch of stormtroopers! Leia and Chewie had had to retreat into doorways, and once into a lab—which was empty, thank the Maker—in order to avoid the armor-clad soldiers. Whatever had them stirred up, they were going through the lab building by threes and fours, instead of singly or in pairs, as they usually did. She only hoped that they weren't all after Han and Astin. But, knowing Han, that was probably too much to ask for. Leia quickly pulled her head back into the doorway where they were currently hiding. She allowed herself to breathe again only after the stormtroopers had clattered by.

"Well, at least they haven't found them yet," she told her silent companion, "there are still too many patrols searching."

Chewie nodded in agreement.

"I don't think we should keep going room to room, it's just going to take too long."

Another nod.

Leia's face screwed up in concentration. Trying to talk to the Wookiee was a little like playing pantomime. "Do you think we should watch the exits?" she asked him. Personally, she didn't think that was too good of an idea, but it was the best she could come up with.

Instead of a nod, this time Chewie only offered a furry shrug.

"Well, do you have any better ideas?" she snapped.

Chewie's head bounced up and down in definite affirmative. The long hairy fingers of one hand pulled at the princess' sleeve while those on the other hand pointed at her blaster, which she quickly raised. Surveying the now empty corridor, the Wookiee pulled Leia toward an unmarked door at the far end.

####

"**These are the only vials?" Han asked, indicating a small carryall containing a half-dozen tiny tubes of bacta. **"They're awfully small," he observed doubtfully.

"I didn't have time to make a bigger batch, with all the stormtroopers converging on the planet," Astin responded with some heat.

"Hey! No need to get all bothered! I just want to make sure there aren't any mistakes."

It was a strange conversation, carried on almost soundlessly behind the closed door of room 2-Alpha. Twice they'd had to stop speaking entirely as groups of stormtroopers had marched past.

"There aren't going to be any mistakes," Astin said with certainty.

Han stared at the younger man. Something in his tone bothered him, Han just couldn't place what it was. With a shrug, he turned back to the cabinet, sliding open drawers to make sure he didn't miss anything. In the very back of the bottom drawer, his hand encountered the familiar feel of another carryall. With a sharp tug, he pulled it out.

"I guess you forgot about these?" Han hissed, opening the carryall to reveal another ten tubes of bacta.

"Leave them here!"

"I thought the whole idea was to not leave anything for the Imps to see." Han stuffed the six original samples into the carryall which contained the ten new ones. He tossed the empty carrier to the far corner of the lab.

"Don't do that!" Astin's hand clamped around Han's wrist with surprising strength. "Don't mix up the samples!"

"Don't worry," Han flashed a quick smile, "I know what I'm doing." He started for the door, once again towing the other man with him.

This time Astin resisted. "I told you to leave those vials here," he snarled. His temper quickly faltered under Han's withering gaze.

"Remember I said some of the bacta was dangerous," he continued evenly. "That's what's in those tubes."

"And I asked you how bacta could be dangerous. Tell me now." Han fingered his blaster with his free hand.

Astin swallowed convulsively. "That batch was a…a mistake," he stammered. "If we leave them here and the Empire's scientists analyze them, I think they'll believe the research was a failure."

"Uh, uh," Han disagreed. "They might find a way to fix your mistake, just like you did. Anyway, Leia wants them all, so she gets them all." His hand hovered over the activation pad for the door. "Come with me or stay, I really don't care. But I'm taking this," Han indicated the carryall filled with bacta, "back to the Princess and the Alliance." Keying the door open, he stepped out into the corridor. Reluctantly Astin followed him.

"_Kriff_!" Han spat out, freezing in place. Astin followed his glare. There were six stormtroopers knotted together in front of the lift.

"I guess we do this the old-fashioned way," Han muttered, hurrying in the opposite direction.

"Huh?" Astin struggled to keep up with Han's long-legged stride.

Opening an unmarked door, Han slipped inside. "Stairs," he whispered.

####

"**Stairs? This was your better idea?" Leia glared at Chewie.**

The Wookiee responded with a longish, impassioned speech of which Leia understood very little. However, since he'd followed her unquestioningly as she'd navigated her way this far, it seemed reasonable to trust that he had the same sense of where to go. She followed Chewie through the doorway that led to a set of stark emergency stairs.

Leia walked carefully up the sharply turning metal stairway, envying Chewbacca's near-silent footfalls. It was almost enough to make her want to walk barefoot. Almost. They'd only gone three or four steps when a stumbling rattle from above stopped Chewie. Leia was so intent on keeping quiet she didn't even notice he'd stopped until she bounced off his muscled midsection. She only just managed to keep her footing, scraping one foot along the edge of a stair. To Leia, that small sound seemed as loud as a scream. She raised her blaster, even as her companion readied his bowcaster. Leia's smile was fiery. Whoever was coming down was in for quite a surprise.

####

"**Why are we going down the stairs?" Astin asked.**

Han mentally entertained the possibility of knocking the young scientist unconcious, then thought better of it. It wasn't due to any great sense of moral responsibility, so much as the realization that he'd be even a bigger nuisance if Han had to carry him.

"You did notice the stormtroopers standing in front of the lift, didn't you?" Han asked him, sarcasm permeating his voice.

"Of course I did! I'm not stupid, you know!"

Please don't make me answer that, Han thought. "Well, that's why we can't use the lift," he said.

"I thought we'd just wait until they left again."

"The longer we wait, the more likely we are to get caught." Han started down the zigzagging stairs, his boots barely making a sound on the durasteel plating. "I'm betting there's some sort of tunnel system that connects the buildings together," he explained. "With all the rain on this planet, beings aren't gonna want to get wet all the time. Tunnels would be the solution."

Astin nodded. "Why don't you let me carry those?" He grabbed for the carryall containing the bacta. Han nimbly avoided the grasping hand. "You've got the blaster," the young man pointed out.

"You've got one, too," Han reminded him. "Just follow me, be quiet, and _do what I tell you to!"_

Quiet didn't appear to be in Astin's skill set. Two steps down, he caught the heel of his boot on the edge of stair. His stumble sent a rattling echo through the open stairwell.

Han reached for the other man's arm and pulled him back against the wall, holding up his hand to indicate silence. "Do you hear that?" Han breathed. Somewhere below them was a sound not caused by Astin. The young man mutely shook his head in the negative.

"There's someone else in here." Han lifted his blaster to the ready position. "Pull your blaster out," he directed Astin.

"Huh?"

"Get out the blaster. And remember what I said: Don't point it at me, and pull the trigger when I tell you to." Han peered down toward the first floor and grinned. "Whoever that is, they're in for a big surprise."


	7. Chapter 7

_And again, many thanks to my betas jublke and StatsGrandma57. You guys rock! And again, thanks for reading, everyone._

**What Makes a Hero?**

_Chapter Seven_

**Han moved down the stairs, step by careful step, his blaster poised.** The strap from the carryall, which was draped across his torso, cut into his shoulder blades and hampered his movements, but it wasn't enough of a nuisance to make him put the _kriffing_ thing down. There was no way he was going to let Astin get his hands on it. The way the kid looked at it—like a hungry sand panther after a womprat—bothered him. Whatever Astin was after, Han could tell it had nothing to do with the new, miracle bacta. And right now Han just didn't have the time nor the patience to deal with whatever it was that had the kid buzzed, not when there was a building full of stormtroopers hunting for them.

Except for that faint sound Han had heard earlier, there hadn't been any other noises from down below. It was possible that it had just been someone taking a shortcut, but he didn't think so; he hadn't heard a door open or shut. His lips compressed. That meant that whoever that was down there, they were good—very good. It couldn't be stormtroopers; stormtroopers didn't care how much noise they made. Han hoped it wasn't ImpSec; he dreaded getting hauled in front of Isard almost as much as he dreaded an encounter with Vader. Han held his breath. All he needed was a few more steps—just one more corner—and he'd have the drop on whoever it was—

"Hold it right there!" he ordered loudly. In one swift, economical motion, Han was around the last corner and onto the landing, covering his prey with his blaster.

He was greeted, not by ImpSec, and not by stormtroopers, but by the bellow of a Wookiee battle cry and a shout of "Han! Don't shoot!"

Han jerked his blaster up and away. Astin did shoot, or at least his finger spasmed on the trigger, probably from fear. Fortunately, the bolt went wild, echoing noisily in the stairwell. Leia and Chewie dove for cover.

"What are you doing here?" Han snarled as he watched Chewbacca and the princess untangle themselves. "You were supposed to keep her on the _Falcon_." Han's voice was cold and his eyes hard as he looked at the Wookiee standing two steps below him.

Chewie's own eyes sparked hotly as he started to explain; Leia cut the explanation short when she stepped between them. She set her jaw as she tilted her chin up to look the Corellian in the eye.

"No one keeps me anywhere, Captain," the princess informed him. "It was my idea to come, and Chewie agreed with me. If you had just listened to me before, we wouldn't be in this mess." Han noted that Leia's brown eyes currently were as hard as Corusca gem stones. His own temper flared.

"Sweetheart," he hissed, "if you're saying that this is all _my_ fault—" His thumb jerked up toward his chest.

"I tried to stop you!"

"No one stops me!"

Chewie bared his teeth as he growled a warning to Han.

"Right! This is a bad time for this conversation." Han's eyes darted up and down the stairwell. "Let's just get out of here."

"Give me the carryall." Astin had remained silent, and had seemed innocently uncertain, during Han and Leia's exchange. Now, however, he was sure of himself, his expression unyielding.

"Why?" Han demanded. The kid better have a good reason.

"Look, you're better able to watch out for Leia if you don't have to deal with that." Astin pointed at the carryall, a canny look on his face.

Han considered the situation while Chewie shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the still-empty stairwell as if he expected a squad of stormtroopers to appear any second.

"Fine," Han agreed grudgingly. He tugged the strap over his head one-handed, while still holding his blaster at the ready with the other. He was tired of arguing with the kid…and this time the genius was right, the _kriffing _thing was likely to slow him down in a fight. Now that the princess was with them, he couldn't afford to be slow.

"Han! You can't give that to him!" Leia's hand snaked out to grab the strap at the same time Astin's did.

"What is with you guys and these samples?" Angrily, Han tugged at the strap as well. If he could find a garbage disposal chute, he might just pitch the whole _kriffing_ mess!

Chewbacca frantically pointed at the door at the bottom of the stairs, groaning that they needed to go. Now!

"Han, he tampered with some of the samples, contaminated them," Leia explained. She glared at Astin, then turned back to Han. "He wants the Empire to find them and use them. That will kill hundreds, maybe thousands of beings. We can't let him—it's murder!"

"Why did you do that?" Han turned to stare at the young scientist, his face set.

"Because they killed them, they killed them all." Astin's breath hitched. "You think I'm a murderer?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch. "Just because I want to kill a few thousand of the vilest beings in the galaxy? They killed billions! Billions! Without a thought, with the push of a button, they murdered a whole world!" Tears filled the young man's eyes, threatening to overflow. "A whole, innocent world," he sobbed.

Chewie howled that they had to run before someone found them.

"What if an innocent Thyferran finds your poisoned samples?" Han's voice cut through Astin's sobs like a vibroblade through flesh. "What if you poison these beings and their world? By mistake?"

"I don't care!" Astin screamed, all reason gone. "Someone has to pay for what I lost! Someone has to pay for Alderaan!"

"Astin! Think about what you're saying!" Leia stared at her friend in horror.

The door at the top of the stairs exploded inward. Stormtroopers poured through the doorway, firing as they started down the stairs. The carryall hit the floor as Han grabbed Leia and pulled her out of the line of fire. He turned to fire up at the advancing soldiers. Chewbacca aimed his bowcaster, firing as well.

"No!" Astin shrieked, as he grabbed for the carryall. "Give that to me. I'll make them suffer." Tears streamed down his face—his eyes were wild, insane. "They need to pay!" He aimed his blaster at the oncoming stormtroopers, but he never had a chance to fire; the deadly red shot caught him at center mass. He fell down the stairs past Han and Leia. The smell of his charred flesh filled the stairwell.

"Astin." Leia didn't scream, and she didn't cry; her voice was barely a whisper. However, with a celerity that shocked Han, she twisted out of his grasp and bolted down the steps toward her friend.

"Leia, no!" Han called after her; Chewbacca bellowed in warning. The princess didn't stop, but continued downward, the sound of her footsteps ringing as she slipped and skidded on the durasteel plating.

Electronically filtered voices from above shouted in surprise.

"Who's that?"

"It's Leia Organa!"

"Lord Vader wants her; there's a price on her head—a big one."

"He wants her alive! Set for stun."

The blue beam flashed before Han could fire up the stairs at the stormtroopers. It struck the princess squarely between the shoulder blades. She stumbled and collapsed, her momentum propelling her down four more of the sharp-edged stairs until her body landed beside Astin's—crumpled and unmoving.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks again to jublke and StatsGrandma57 for being the world's greatest betas. Especially since I keep changing things. And thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing. If I didn't get pack to you personally, I meant to..._

**What Makes a Hero?**

_Chapter Eight_

**The **_**Falcon**_** shot spaceward from Thyferra's surface in a cloud of dust and scree. **Han stared through the ship's canopy, scanning for pursuers, but the sky remained empty as it changed from the foggy blue of the planet's atmosphere to the clear black of space. He breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently the Imps didn't know about the smugglers' quarry hideout. Well, he thought with a wry smile, they do now. They could hardly have missed his liftoff, which had been all about speed and absolutely nothing about stealth.

"Chewie, punch in the coordinates for Yavin."

Dutifully, the Wookiee reached his long arm behind the pilot and keyed the navicomputer for the rebel base.

Han's eyes moved to the sensor readout. "I don't see any signs of our Imperial friends." He tapped keys on the control board, changing the sensor range. "I guess they're more concerned about what's going on dirtside instead of watching the sky," he said, managing to combine contempt with relief. "I think we can take the direct route."

Chewbacca woofed in agreement. He watched Han pilot the ship past the last of Thyferra's moons, then warbled a suggestion.

"What? You're crazy, pal!" Han carefully relaxed his vise-like grip on the controls and leaned back in his seat. He inhaled a carefully casual breath, then exhaled equally casually, all the while willing his heart rate back down to something near to normal. Han had enough to worry about; he didn't need the big fuzzball worrying about his stress level!

"I'm just fine," he continued. "I don't need any help piloting _my _ship." He shifted his eyes away from the viewport to look at his friend. "It's not like I've never been in a firefight before, especially since we started hanging around with this rebel bunch."

Judiciously, the Wookiee grumbled a clarification.

"The fact that her Worshipfulness got in the line of fire doesn't make any difference." Han's hands tightened their grip once again, then loosened. "Anyway, she's going to be just fine." His voice was tight.

He turned his gaze back to the blackness of space. "I don't need anything from you," Han proclaimed solidly. "I don't need anything from anybody. I'm just fine." He was so intent on professing his independence that he didn't notice the understanding smile on the Wookiee's face.

Han flipped a few switches on the control panel. "We're free of the gravity wells; are the coordinates set?"

Chewie grunted in the affirmative. Han pulled back on the hyperdrive levers, and the _Millennium Falcon_ leapt to lightspeed. He couldn't remember ever being so glad to be away from a planet as this one.

####

**The first few seconds after the shots had been the worst.** Han could tell Astin was gone; the hole burnt into his chest left no room for doubt. The young man's eyes, already fogged with death, were wide open in surprise. Well, what had he expected? But Leia? Heart pounding, Han looked down the stairs…

A blaster shot sang by his face, so close that afterward, all he could see was white. Han pulled back against the wall with a muttered oath, and fired blindly up the stairs. He could hear Chewie howling with rage as shots from his bowcaster echoed weirdly in the enclosed space. A thud and a rattling clatter indicated the demise of at least one stormtrooper.

"Chewie! Cover me!" Han blinked his eyes furiously to clear the white lights still flickering in front of them. The Wookiee roared at him to go. Han went, firing back over his shoulder as he stumbled down the stairs to the landing where the princess remained motionless.

As he reached her, the noise of the battle seemed to fade away. Every fiber of his being was focused on Leia. It had been a stun shot, he was sure; Han had seen the blue flash. But what if it hadn't been? She lay on her side, her head seemingly cradled on her crooked arm; if her feet weren't still trailing up the stairs, it might have looked as if she'd just stopped for a nap, albeit in a very unusual place.

Han reached a careful hand to the pulse-point on her throat. It was there: a little fast, a little uneven, but strong enough. She was one tough princess, he thought. He was just about to slide her off the stairs when decades old first aid training kicked in, reminding him that an injured, unconscious being shouldn't be moved. The rapidly swelling discoloration on Leia's temple screamed head injury, and the fall could have broken bones or bruised internal organs.

Another salvo of blaster fire spattered fragments of burning metal around them. Han swore as he leaned forward to shield Leia from the debris. He could smell singed Wookiee fur. A fusillade of answering shots from Chewie's bowcaster told him that any injuries his friend might have sustained were minor.

"Chewie?" Han shouted out the one-word question, while sighting his blaster over his shoulder and firing in one fluid movement. Another thump and clatter of armor indicated a hit.

The Wookiee bellowed back the obvious suggestion, peppered with angry invective, that they should leave—and quickly!

"Yeah, I figured that out!" Han fired again, wounding a trooper. "But…" he trailed off, looking at Leia. He laid a protective hand over the uninjured side of her face.

Never slowing his barrage of shots, Chewie barked a question of his own.

"I don't know how bad she's hurt!" Han shouted back, his voice tight. "But maybe I can wake her up." Glancing down at Leia's sickly white face, Han didn't hold much hope for that. "Leia?" He brushed his hand along her exposed cheek, eliciting no response. He continued down to her shoulder, and shook her a little. Her head lolled. He felt a sharp stab of fear tear into his gut.

"Nothing!" he called out to the Wookiee. "I'm gonna have to carry her."

Chewie barked out in caution.

Han's lips compressed to a single, hard line. He knew that standard procedure might be to not move an injured individual, but that didn't take into account angry stormtroopers shooting at you. There was no way around it—he had to get her out of here! Moving as carefully as he could, Han gently gathered the limp form into his arms; firing off one last shot as he did so.

Chewbacca rumbled in surprise.

"What?" Han looked up the stairs. Five stormtroopers lay in a messy, unmoving heap, one flight above them. "Oh, well, good shooting on our part, I guess," he observed. "We've got to get back to the _Falcon," _he continued. "There are bound to be more of 'em on the way. Do you see any sign of tunnels between buildings down there?"

Chewie loped down the rest of the stairs, then barked in the affirmative, indicating a closed hatch. Han gave a relieved sigh; at least he'd gotten that part right. He'd been mostly sure about the tunnels. Then his eyes fell on the remains of the other young Alderaanian.

"Can you..?" he began, but there was no need. The Wookiee was already there, bending down to retrieve Astin's body, as respectfully as was possible under the circumstances.

"Thanks, Chewie," Han said softly. He started down the stairs, cradling Leia's head against his breast, cautious of any jostling. Han knew he might be doing the princess a grave injury moving her like this, but there really weren't any other options available—not with dozens of Imperials looking for them.

Chewie activated the access switch to the hatch; it slid open with a groan. Apparently it wasn't used very often. Han stepped past him into the musty smelling corridor. Water dripped from carelessly patched pipes in the ceiling; Han did his best to protect the princess from this added insult. Looking down at the bruised face resting against his breast, Han silently prayed to long-forgotten childhood deities. After all of the different beings who'd attempted it in the months since he'd known her, his only thought was _please, don't let me be the one who kills Leia!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks again to my wonderful beta's: jublke and statsgrandma57. You guys are the best! Thanks to everyone who's reading and following._

**What Makes a Hero?**

_Chapter Nine_

**The numbers on the ship's chrono showed that it would be another two hours until the **_**Falcon**_** reached the rebel base on Yavin 4.** It had been three hours since Han had secured the unconscious princess into the ship's utilitarian medbunk. A little more than four hours had gone by since Han and Chewie had fought their way past Imperial stormtroopers and escaped through Thyferra's tunnel system with Han cradling the injured princess and Chewbacca carrying the body of Astin Kieriernan. Four hours was an awfully long time for anyone to be unconscious, Han knew, and since it was Leia… He'd tried to stop her. If he'd been just a little faster, he would have caught her before she went charging down the stairs after that stupid kid. But he hadn't been able to catch her, and now he was afraid… He shook his head, he didn't want to finish that thought.

Han activated the diagnostic sensor, passed it over Leia's body, and checked the result. He scowled at it for a moment, gave the device a sharp smack with his hand, and repeated the procedure. It said the same thing it had said the last five times he'd tried it—mild traumatic brain injury and moderate neural suppression due to electrolaser stun. So the princess had a mild concussion and had been stunned by a blaster; why didn't this _kriffing_ sensor tell him something he didn't already know—like why Leia was still unresponsive!

Tossing the offending instrument onto the holotable, Han went back to stand next to the medbunk, carefully watching its occupant. He was too edgy to sit. Han was no medic, but he'd learned enough first aid during his time at the Academy to know that a head injury was always a serious thing. It probably hadn't helped the situation any that he'd had to carry Leia through what'd seemed like kilometers of tunnels to get back to the _Falcon_—but there hadn't been any other way. Once the stormtroopers had figured out who Leia was, they'd been hot for their bounty, the tunnels had kept them safely hidden. The fact that Han and Chewie had taken out five troopers right there in the stairwell hadn't done anything to improve their pursuers already bad tempers, either.

"C'mon, Sweetheart," Han addressed the unmoving princess. His voice was low and a little rough.

There was no response, of course. He reached out with a hand that he discovered wasn't quite steady to brush the hair back from the black and purple bruise on Leia's temple. Han glared angrily at his trembling hand before balling it into a fist. It was steady again when he activated a coldpak and placed it against the bruise on Leia's forehead. Her Worship was going to have one hells of a headache when she woke up. If she woke up, he thought unhappily. He'd already lost too many people in his life that he cared about—Jarik, Dewlanna, even Bria—and he wasn't going to lose any more!

With an inarticulate curse, Han stalked across the main hold and stabbed unnecessarily at a few buttons on the engineering console. He threw himself down into the seat at the station and ordered his agitated body to _just stay still!_ What in the nine Corellian hells was wrong with him, he wondered? There was no reason for him to be behaving like this. This whole rebellion thing was just a place to hide out until he could pay off Jabba, wasn't it? He silently damned to perdition the pirates who had stolen the reward money they'd received for saving Leia's pert little royal butt on the Deathstar. He and Chewie would have been long gone if it hadn't been for that disaster! And certainly her Worship meant nothing to him—Han was quick to assure himself of that! She was nothing more than a stuck-up, spoiled little girl who was so used to getting her own way that she was completely blind to things that were obviously _really bad ideas_. Just look at the mess this little trip had turned into; it was a good thing she'd had him along to get her out of trouble! _Kriff!_ One kid was dead, and the other…

The sound of a low moan from the medbunk had Han up and across the hold in two long strides. Leia twisted her head feebly from side to side, though her eyes were still closed. The coldpak had slipped from her forehead to one side.

"Sweetheart," he said again softly, "open your eyes."

There was no response. The princess' eyes remained tightly closed.

"Come on, Leia," he cajoled her, "you need to try."

Still nothing. Han resisted the urge to shake her—that would only make matters worse, he realized—and instead tried a different tack.

"Your Worshipfulness," he taunted, using that most hated of appellations, "you really messed things up this time. I just hope you're grateful I was there to bail you out."

A crooked grin lit Han's features when Leia's eyelids fluttered and her eyes opened to slits. He hadn't been sure that little trick would work, but he ought to have known that if anything would rouse her it would be the possibility that she was wrong and he was right! He felt a quick wave of sympathy when he saw the pain-filled expression on her face. That had to be one monster of a headache!

"Here." Han put the coldpak in her hand and guided it to the lump on her temple. "Hold this there," he directed. "It should help, at least a little." Absently, he took her other hand in his, rubbing his thumb comfortingly along her knuckles. When he realized what he was doing, he jerked his hand away again.

Obediently, Leia placed the pak against her aching head. She closed her eyes again, then opened them fully. They were filled with questions.

The invisible durasteel band that had been tightening relentlessly around his chest for the last five hours loosened perceptibly at the sight of awareness in Leia's dark eyes. He drew a deep breath; it felt like the first one he'd taken in days. Han's heart, which had been beating in an unusually quick cadence now slowed to something close to normal. Maybe he wouldn't have a heart attack after all! He offered the princess a relieved smile.

"Astin." It was the only word Leia said.

Astin. At the sound of that one name a surprising mix of feelings washed over Han: anger, jealousy, and finally, sympathy. Of course she would think about Astin, he told himself. She'd almost gotten herself killed trying to get to him, for hells sake! She'd just seen him die. With difficulty, Han put his own feelings aside—it was only a bruised ego, after all—and nodded comfortingly at the Princess.

"We got him," he answered Leia. It wasn't a lie, since they'd brought the young man's body with them after the fight with the stormtroopers. Right now, it was respectfully secured in the cargo hold's cold unit.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Han said shortly. He bit back any further comment he might have made. Han could see emotional trauma, combined with the physical, in the pained lines of Leia's face. Even though his ego was bruised—and that was all it was, he was sure—he wouldn't cause her any more pain. He might be a lot of things of which he wasn't too proud, but Han Solo was not cruel.

"Han, I'm sorry." Leia said weakly.

"What?"

"That," she stuttered, swallowed, "that wasn't the Astin I knew. The Astin I thought I knew." She swallowed again and rubbed her throbbing head. "Thank you for everything you did for us. I'm sorry I got you involved." Leia shut her eyes again. Han didn't know if it was because her head hurt, or her heart. He guessed maybe it was both.

He didn't know what to say, or what to do—or even what he was feeling. Again. And, again, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. _I just need to stay detached, _he told himself_._ "Here, use this." He grabbed the coldpak, put it back in Leia's hand. "This will make your head feel better."

Leia pressed it back against her head with a sigh. In a few moments, she was asleep. Han grabbed a blanket from the storage rack above the bunk and awkwardly covered her with it. He stood for a moment, watching her sleep. He was starting to realize that he was way beyond his depth when it came to dealing with this little princess, and that fact irritated the hells out of him.

He was heading back to the cockpit—he could deal much better with his unruly emotions in the place where he felt most comfortable—when Chewie stopped him with a question. He pointed at the carryall containing the bacta samples, which had been abandoned at the entrance hatch in the frenzy of activity when they got back to the ship. Han stared at it for a long moment, almost as if he didn't recognize it.

"I forgot about them," he admitted. He bent down and carefully fingered the vials. In their furious dash to safety, the two sets of vials had been jumbled together. Han had no idea which ones were tainted and which ones weren't. The kid had warned him…

Chewie groaned out a comment, his nose wrinkling with distaste.

"Yeah, Chewie, I think you're right; they're more problem than they're worth. You know what we're gonna do? When we drop out of lightspeed, we'll space 'em." Han turned toward the cockpit access tube.

The Wookiee barked out another question. "Yeah, I'm sure," Han responded, not turning around. "We've got the kid's notes. I'm sure somebody can interpret them." Now he did turn to face his first-mate. "Yavin's a gas giant; we'll jettison them right into its atmosphere. They should burn right up." Han thought about Astin's body in the hold, and Leia's fragile form in the medbunk. He looked at Chewie with tired eyes. "The kriffing stuff has already caused enough suffering."

Without another word, Han turned and headed to the cockpit.


	10. Chapter 10

_One more huge thank you to the world's greatest betas: jublke and StatsGrandma57! And, of course, to everyone who's reading and following the story._

**What Makes a Hero?**

_Chapter Ten_

"**Leia! Leia! Wait a minute!"**

The princess stopped and turned at the sound of Luke Skywalker's urgent, exuberant call. He trotted toward her across the worn paving stones at the base of the temple-turned-hangar, not a bead of sweat visible on his eager face.

It must be because he grew up on such a harsh, intemperate world, Leia thought sourly. Personally, she felt like the heat would melt her into a sticky puddle at any moment, but that might be because she was still feeling the effects of her fall. She schooled her features into a welcoming smile. If Luke noticed anything was wrong, he'd have her back at the medcenter in a nanosecond, and that was the last thing she wanted! Everyone in the medcenter—including the two-onebee unit—treated her like a princess, when all she really wanted to be was a person.

"Hi, Luke," she said, as he came to halt in front of her.

"Hey, Leia," he greeted her. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Thank you," Leia nodded politely, "but it really wasn't anything but a bump on the head." Her hand strayed to her temple. The lump and the bruising were gone, but the area was still sensitive to her touch.

"Boy, was I scared at first. When Han carried you off the _Falcon_ it looked like you were dead." He waved his hand toward the stone apron in front of the hangar bay in an expressive gesture.

"Wait a minute. Han Solo _carried_ _me_ off the ship?" Leia grabbed Luke's arm, stopping it mid-motion. Her face was a study of shock and confusion. She didn't really remember anything after Astin had died—Leia swallowed a lump of grief at the thought—only vague impressions of being safe, worried over, loved. She'd assumed that in her semi-conscious state, she was remembering being taken care of as a child. Astin's reappearance had unlocked a flood of her childhood memories. But now, with what Luke was saying…._could she be remembering Han? Was it his tender concern she remembered? No_! She closed her eyes. The very thought made her dizzy.

"Yeah," Luke continued, unaware of Leia's turmoil. "But I guess you don't remember. I'm not even sure you were awake. Too bad you missed his landing; it was quite a thing to see." Luke smiled in grudging admiration. "I don't think anyone but Han could have pulled that off."

Instead of landing his ship in its usual jungle clearing, Han had dropped the _Millennium Falcon _directly in front of the main hangar doors with a pinpoint accuracy few other pilots could have managed. He'd descended the ship's ramp with the princess's limp body held carefully in his arms, shouting orders with military expedience. Everyone who witnessed his arrival responded to him like he was a general. After the Corellian had taken Leia to the medcenter, he'd requested, and had, an audience with General Dodonna. Finally, when that was done, and Astin Kierenan's body had been taken to the base morgue, Han, Chewbacca and the _Millennium Falcon_ had just...disappeared. It wasn't until this morning that Luke was even sure that Han was still on Yavin 4. He did note, however, that Han's reappearance had coincided with Leia's release from medical care. Right now, the smuggler stood at the edge of the stone pavement in front of the temple, deep in conversation with the rebel force's newest general, Carlist Rieekan.

Both Luke and Leia looked at Han. Luke eyed him curiously, unsure of what to make of this new side of his friend. Leia looked confused.

####

"**You're Solo, right? I'm Carlist Rieekan." The man held out his hand.**

"That's right." Han raised a curious eyebrow as he took the proffered hand. He knew that Rieekan was a new arrival to the base, and that he was another Alderaan survivor, but he didn't know much more than that. He seemed to be a decent enough man, and by what he'd heard from people like Wedge Antilles, Han judged him to be a good soldier. He'd certainly seen enough bad ones during his time with the Imperial Navy to know the difference. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asked cautiously.

Rieekan raised an eyebrow to match Han's, and the somber lines of the man's face lessened with some personal amusement.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Solo. I wanted to thank you for your help with the Thyferra—" Rieekan hesitated, searching for the appropriate descriptor "—mission," he said finally.

Han's face was neutral when he responded. "You're welcome, sir," he said, "but I just did—" now it was Han's turn to hesitate, looking for the right phrase, "—what the situation demanded," he concluded.

"I understand," the other man agreed. "You did what had to be done, and under less than ideal conditions." Rieekan smiled sadly. "Princess Leia told me what happened with young Astin Kierenan. Thank you for not making his, er, misstep, public knowledge."

"There wasn't any point, sir." Han found the _sirs_ coming easily; Rieekan was someone he thought he could respect. "He was just a kid, and I can understand how he felt," he said. He saw Rieekan's eyes narrow. "I don't think what he wanted to do was right," Han continued, "but I kinda understand what made him want to do it."

Rieekan's face relaxed and Han realized he'd just passed a test he hadn't known he was taking.

"And, for myself," the older man continued, "I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of Leia," Rieekan smiled. "You know, I've known Leia since she was a baby. I never knew a more obstinate child."

Han's lips twitched into a smile as he nodded in agreement. Then his eyes strayed to where Leia stood with Luke; their heads bent close together, her hand on his arm. A twinge of jealousy passed through him. _Hells _he thought angrily, _what is wrong with me? I don't want to even think about her, and that's all I do!_

"Sir, I didn't do anything…" he stumbled in response. "I just…did what needed to be done."

"And you did a damn fine job of it. From what I understand, Leia could have died."

_Yeah, and don't I know it! _Han's stomach clenched as he thought about those tense hours on the _Falcon. _He didn't want thanks and he didn't want to think about what he'd done; he'd only done what anyone would do, after all. He especially didn't want to think about how he'd felt during those hours. It had been an aberration, he assured himself, excess emotion from the heat of battle, nothing more.

"You know," he told Rieekan, "sometimes you just play the sabacc hand you're dealt."

To Han's surprise, this statement elicited a genuine smile from the Alderaanian. "Yes," the general agreed, "sometimes that's exactly what you do. I'm betting you're a pretty good player." Rieekan clapped Han on the shoulder with a bark of laughter.

Reluctantly, Han smiled back. Not only did he respect this man, he realized, he also found that he could easily like him. _Kriff! No attachments, Solo_, he reminded himself.

"You know, Solo," Rieekan continued, his tone growing serious again. "The people in charge here have made me a general."

Han nodded. He wasn't surprised; he thought Rieekan would make a good leader, and in his opinion the Alliance could use more good leaders.

Rieekan would have said more, but a large, furry-edged shadow crossed over the two humans. Chewbacca moved silently as he stepped from the jungle to join his friend.

Han glanced over his shoulder at the Wookiee, wondering what might have prompted his sudden appearance, before he turned back to Rieekan.

"General Rieekan," he said formally, "this is my first-mate Chewbacca." Han watched the Alderaanian closely, curious to see how he would treat the Wookiee.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Chewbacca." Rieekan smiled and extended his hand. He showed no sign of repugnance, fear, or any of the other reactions Han had seen from humans when they first encountered a Wookiee, only honest pleasure. "I understand from the squadron leaders that you're quite a good mechanic, as well as a good pilot. Thank you for all of your help."

Han felt the tension leave his shoulders as Chewie shook the general's hand—carefully—and warbled a greeting of his own. Obviously, Rieekan wasn't aware that he'd just passed a test as well.

"Like I was just starting to tell your captain here," the general said, "I have a certain amount of latitude with resources here since the Alliance command saw fit to make me a general." His smile included both Han and Chewie. "If you two are willing to stay for a while and help out…"

Han's eyebrows shot up. "General, I'm not—we're not—part of the Alliance." Chewie started to protest, but Han silenced him with a gesture. He wanted to see where this was going.

"I understand you're hesitant to join formally, but I think your sentiments lean in our direction."

Chewbacca barked out an eager affirmative. Han said nothing, but again found his eyes traveling over to where Princess Leia stood talking with Luke. Rieekan didn't miss the look.

"I only thought that we could use your skills to help with supply runs and things of that sort, if you're willing," the general continued. "Obviously you both know how to handle yourselves in a fight, and I'm betting you know how to avoid a sticky situation—and when to turn back and cut your losses."

Han turned his attention back to the general with a cautious, off-center smile. The man couldn't possibly know about Jabba and his bounty, could he? Considering Han's current predicament with the Hutt, the irony that the skill of turning tail and running might be desirable wasn't lost on him.

"I'll make sure that you receive a fair fee for your work and compensation for wear and tear on your ship," Rieekan assured him.

Han looked over at Leia again while Chewie rumbled on exuberantly at the prospect of helping the Rebels. The princess was alone now; Luke apparently had gone to join his squadron. For one brief electric moment, the small figure in white appeared to meet his eyes before she turned away.

"Well, if you're willing to pay, I suppose we could stay on for a while," Han told Rieekan, even as he watched Leia step back inside the hangar. He could probably hold off Jabba for a little while longer. He found himself wondering if there might just be something here worth staying around for.

"I'm glad you're going to stay," Rieekan said, "for however long you can."


	11. Chapter 11

_The last chapter! I never would have made it without the help of my two wonderful betas: jublke and StatsGrandma57. Thanks, guys! I couldn't have done it without you. And a huge thank you to everyone who read, followed and reviewed the story. I'm truly grateful to you._

**What Makes A Hero?**

_Chapter Eleven_

"I know what I told him then, but that was…" Han paused, his sleeves rolled up against the stifling jungle heat, a calibration tool poised over the forward sensor bay. He still wasn't sure just what _had_ prompted him to tell Astin that they were part of the Alliance. If it was jealousy, insecurity, or some other even more distasteful emotion, Han did _not_ want to think about it. And he certainly didn't want to think about the fact that he'd uttered those words where the Princess could hear him!

"That was just something that particular situation demanded," he continued. "It doesn't mean I actually committed us to anything. C'mon, it's not like I've never shaded the truth a little before!" _Like you are right now? _a voice inside his head asked him. Han told it to shut up.

Chewbacca merely raised one furry eyebrow and rumbled out another possible reason.

"No! I wasn't trying to impress the Princess. I just needed to say something to shut the kid up, okay?"

Then why, Chewie growled, was Han now agreeing to work with the Rebels?

"Because now we're gonna get paid, that's why! What is this, an inquisition? I can get that from her Worshipfulness!" Han tossed the instrument he'd been using into a nearby tool carrier. The resultant clang echoed off the walls of the nearby Massassi temple.

Both the Wookiee's eyebrows soared skyward. He snarled under his breath.

"Listen, we've had this discussion before, pal," Han continued defensively. "I know how you feel about helping these guys. I understand." He waved his hand, indicating the bits and pieces of the _Millennium_ _Falcon_ strewn out across the jungle floor. "But we can't keep her flying without parts, and we can't get the parts without credits."

Chewie started to say something, but Han silenced him with a raised hand.

"And it's got nothing to do with the princess," he interjected quickly. "This new guy, Rieekan, I think he's being straight with us. You heard him, he's offering a fair fee for our services." Han smiled, warming to his subject. "It'll work great, we can earn a few credits, keep an eye on the kid, and keep off Jabba's screen for a while." He looked down at the Wookiee. "That work for you?" he asked.

But the princess, Chewie warbled out.

"Why do you keep bring _her _up?" Han countered irritably.

"Captain Solo?" Leia called out. She came around from behind one of the landing struts.

"Oh," Han said, hoping he was hiding his embarrassment.

The Wookiee didn't quite stifle his chuckle.

Leia looked up at Han. Her face was serious, and showed none of the disdain he usually saw there. Or, at least, that he expected to see there.

"Is there something I can do for you, Princess?" he asked her, climbing down from his perch on top of the ship's starboard mandible.

"I was hoping to have a word with you, if you have a minute." Leia looked over the collection of parts spread underneath the ship with a brief flash of concern. "Are you having trouble with the ship?"

"No, why?"

A smile flared in Leia's eyes at the innocent response, then vanished so quickly, Han didn't catch it.

"Whatever it is, it must be pretty important to bring you way out here," Han continued.

"I wanted to speak to you privately."

"Sure, sweetheart," Han said, "whatever you want! Just let me get rid of Chewie. Wouldn't want an audience." He leaned back against the landing strut and folded his arms across his chest. A self-satisfied smile slanted across his face.

"Han!" Leia nearly stamped her foot.

Holding up his hands in a defensive posture, Han took the opportunity to look her over; he hadn't seen her since she'd been released from the medcenter yesterday. She looked fine, he noted, pleased to see how well she'd recovered. Her face showed only the slightest of shadows where the bruising had been.

"Privately," he said. He turned to look at his first mate, but Chewie was already heading down the path away from the ship.

"So, your Worship?"

"I wanted to thank you, for what you did for Astin."

A picture of the young man's laser burned body passed through Han's mind and his face lost all traces of amusement. "I didn't do anything for him," he said flatly, "except let him get killed."

"No, you didn't let him get killed." Leia's eyes met Han's across the assemblage of mismatched parts on the ground. "You couldn't have stopped him; I couldn't stop him. He wanted revenge for Alderaan more than anything, even his own life." She swallowed once before she continued. "The Astin I knew when we were growing up, he was brilliant, and funny, and gentle. That wasn't the Astin you met. That wasn't the Astin who poisoned bacta."

Leia moved around to stand next to Han. His stomach twisted oddly at her nearness.

"By not telling anyone what really happened on Thyferra, you let Astin keep his dignity in the end. The people who knew him can remember the old Astin." She laid a hand on his arm; her eyes were filled with tears. "Thank you for that."

An ion cannon couldn't have caused more of an electric charge than the presence of Leia's hand against his bare skin. It took almost more willpower than Han had to keep from jerking his arm away—or covering her hand with his. He shifted his feet nervously.

Leia looked down at her hand and let it fall away, balling it into her fist at her side. Han felt his heart slow to normal.

"Uh," Han stuttered, "is there some kind of ceremony or something for him? I don't know what you do, uh, did, on Alderaan." _That was smooth, Solo, _he chastised himself. _Remind her of everything she's lost, all at once!_

"I think…something private…" Leia said softly.

Han nodded. "If I can do anything…" He reached down and picked up a random engine part, juggled it in his hands.

Leia nodded.

"I really need to get back to work on this," he said, breaking into the heavy silence that had settled over them.

"It certainly looks that way," she said sharply, once again eyeing the assemblage of parts spread out before them.

"Listen, your Worship," Han shot back, "it takes a lot of work to keep the _Falcon_ running the way she does!"

Leia arched a brow. "I'm sure it does," she needled, but her eyes smiled. "I need to be getting back."

Han nodded once. "I'm sure there's a meeting that needs your presence."

She turned to leave, her lips forming the faintest of smiles. She was obviously as relieved as Han to be back on their old, familiar territory.

Han watched her walk away, enjoying the view as he always did, and wondered what it was about the prickly-tempered princess that always had him off balance.

As if she could read his thoughts, Leia stopped and turned around to look at him. Han immediately found something to adjust on the ship's underside.

"Han," she called to him, "I talked to General Rieekan today."

_Here it comes,_ Han realized, _the comment he'd been waiting for. _He braced himself for the standard comment on his mercenary ways.

"He said you're going to be staying with the Alliance for a while."

"That's right." Han's look defied her to say more.

"I'm glad you're staying," she said clearly, then turned and headed down the path toward the Command Center.

####

**Leia's smile broadened as she walked slowly through Yavin 4's heavy air toward the old temple.** The look of shock on Han Solo's face when she'd told him she was glad he was staying had been priceless. She _was_ glad, she realized, and not just because he and his skills would be an asset to the Rebellion. There was something about the man; something kind, and brave, and noble. Certainly nothing he wanted the world to see, but it was there, all the same.

And her memories of the trip back from Thyferra were much clearer now. Leia was aware of Han's careful handling of her while she was injured. She could clearly remember his genuine concern and his gentle touch. It was almost as if…he _cared_ for her.

_No_! That unspoken thought was absolutely ridiculous, she told herself. Han Solo did not care about anyone, or anything, except himself…and Chewie, and Luke. And maybe her. She shook her head, as if she could shake her confused thoughts into some reasonable order. It didn't work. But one thing was clear, Leia realized she needed to rethink the difficult Corellian pilot. What he had done on Thyferra for Astin and for her, and for the Rebellion, had been nothing short of heroic. And he had done it without expecting anything in return: no money, no recognition, no thanks. He had done it simply because it was the right thing to do.

With a sigh of relief, Leia stepped into the coolness of the base hangar. She quickened her pace as she wove through the parked fighters; she really did have a meeting she needed to get to—curse Han Solo for being right! As she climbed the steps to the Command Center, Leia realized one other thing—Han had forced her to redefine just what it was that made a hero.


End file.
